


My Wingspan Can't Describe It

by crowboy13



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anger Management, Angst, Chronic Illness, Dysfunctional Family, Epilepsy, Family Feels, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending, Just being careful, M/M, Mild Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Seizures, Therapy, bird sanctuary AU, but like, but nothing graphic i promise, minor animal peril, yes i know that's very specific
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowboy13/pseuds/crowboy13
Summary: Who would've guessed that a bird sanctuary could be such a great place to start a romance? Probably no one. This is a weird idea.





	1. April 16th

**Author's Note:**

> Hello & welcome to my entirely unnecessary bird sanctuary AU. I just love these old gays so damn much, y'know? Remember to check the tags for any possible triggers! I'll update them if I think anything possibly triggering has been added in later chapters.

_"You said you liked animals, didn't you?"_

_"Yeah, I did say that," Qrow replied with a huff. "They're usually easier to put up with than people." His therapist smiled sadly._

_"I think you should consider working with them, then," she said._

_"I didn't think career advice was your field, lady."_

_"I can't make you do anything," she said with a sigh, removing her glasses. "I just think that it might be a suitable area of work to get into, since you mentioned you're looking to start earning money again." Qrow leaned back in his armchair and scowled out the window._

_"I just don't think a job where something's life is in my hands is particularly appropriate," he said bluntly. His therapist didn't bring it up again._

~~~~~

Beacon Bird Sanctuary was just one of the many unusual destinations that Marrensdale had to offer, and Qrow couldn't say that he'd paid it much attention since moving to the small town late the previous year. He liked animals, sure, but he honestly hadn't had the energy to check the place out before. Shipping your entire life across the Atlantic tended to have that effect on a guy, even if he did like to think of himself as the sturdy type. 

The sanctuary was an unassuming building at first glance - it blended in with its environment, just as Qrow was trying to do. Walking up to it for the first time all those months ago, application form in hand, Qrow had to laugh: looking at its size, he'd thought they must've just had a few weird ducks and maybe some parrots. Luckily, he'd soon discovered that the drab converted storefront actually backed onto a maze of gardens and enclosures, lush green and the smell of life contrasting with the grey street he's just come from. 

He'd been working there for just over two months now, having been accepted only about a week after applying; they were a little short on staff, they said, which Qrow could understand with the place being so quiet. Manual labour was more satisfying than he'd anticipated, even if a lot of it did entail hauling large containers of birdfeed across the sanctuary or cleaning out cages for hours at a time. He figured almost anything was better than staying trapped at his crappy three-room apartment, lazing about with no purpose and a sheen of inactivity covering every inch of his skin. 

By now, he'd fallen into a pretty comfortable routine: wake up at 6am, shower, coffee, at work by 7:30,  finish his shift at 4pm, head home. He got the weekends off, and his nieces would come and stay with him, but other than that everything was the same every day. Although there was still a little part of him that wished for some more excitement, a little variation to spice things up, he had to admit that he enjoyed the regularity of it all. Most days, he could switch into autopilot, sweating through the days without too much effort yet avoiding any extreme boredom. It worked. 

The birds were decent company, of course. Like he'd said to his therapist nearly a year ago, animals were easier than people, less complicated. Emotions had never been Qrow's strong point, especially other people's, and he appreciated the fact that the most any of the feathered creatures needed in terms of conversation were a few hums and grunts their way. He especially liked the corvids - they seemed more intelligent than most, and he almost felt sorry for the lack of visitors they tended to get - though he found the owls interesting, too, their wise eyes always comforting. 

_Jeez, maybe I'm turning into one of those crazy old ladies who talks to animals all the time,_ he thought to himself while sweeping the leaves and litter from an enclosure. He remembered this 80-something-year-old woman who lived up the road from his childhood home back in America, who'd had nine dogs living with her and didn't speak to anyone at all. Qrow had felt bad for her for a while, until she died and the cops found multiple dead dogs wrapped in carpets around her house. 

He didn't feel like he was going insane, anyway - at least no more than he already was. Wiping a grimy hand across his brow, he looked up at one of the birds of prey: one of the two buzzards they had at Beacon, a laid-back, golden-brown animal with sap-coloured eyes. He stared at it for a few seconds, the creature looking back at him with curiosity, before a family wandered in and he ducked into a different area. 

~~~~~

An hour or so later, it was Qrow's turn to feed the owls. He couldn't say he was immensely fond of the task - watching the birds gulp down mice whole at 10am was somewhat disconcerting - but he wasn't as squeamish about it as his colleagues. He didn't know any of them very well (or at all, really) but they were all very grateful for his willingness to take over the mouse distributing duties. 

That day, just as he'd expected, Qrow was greeted by the silent presence of the silver-haired man when he walked into the owl enclosure. The sanctuary wasn't very popular at all, certainly not popular enough to have regular visitors, and yet here he was. Qrow saw him at Beacon all the time, always sitting on the left side of the bench in the owl enclosure, facing the barn owl; he would usually write in one of his many notebooks, deep in focus, or simply sit there to eat his lunch. Having not made any friends at work, this stranger was the only familiar face Qrow could properly recognise at the sanctuary other than his boss. 

As creepy as he knew he was being, Qrow couldn't help but be fascinated by this man. First of all, there was his appearance: he appeared ageless, as if in a painting, his smooth and youthful skin contrasting startlingly with his light grey hair. Qrow himself was looking a little worse for wear at 32, stress and trauma (and drink) gifting him premature grey hairs and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, yet he couldn't tell whether the stranger was younger or older than him. He wore small, rounded glasses with tinted frames that made him look older than Qrow suspected he probably was, always matched with subtle outfits in muted tones. 

Qrow allowed himself a few seconds to watch the silver-haired man as he stood in the entrance to the enclosure - he was writing today, pencil scratching continuously away - before heading to the nearest cage. He was making a conscious effort to keep his back facing the other man, awkwardness creeping along his bare forearms as he worked. No one else was in that section of the sanctuary, nor the one next door (endangered native species), and the silence was a little heavy. 

He fished the mice out to feed the birds one by one, eyes trained to the earthy floor whenever he paused. A few times, he glanced up at the silver-haired man: he'd closed his notebook, keeping a thumb on the page he'd been writing on, and was watching Qrow work. His dark amber gaze wasn't intimidating or accusatory; it was somehow gentle and reserved, while still bright with interest. Qrow nearly smiled. 

He'd never heard the sanctuary's singular regular talk, he realised. Perhaps that wasn't so unusual, considering that he always came to the sanctuary alone. Though wasn't that a little odd in itself? Qrow didn't want to judge - gods only knew how much time he'd spent avoiding people over the past few years, practically becoming some sort of recluse - but it did make him wonder. No phone calls, no friends to talk to, not even any crazing talking to himself; Qrow never worked up at the front desk, so he never even got to hear the guy pay for admission. He cringed at the amount of cognitive energy he was putting into the mysterious life of this stranger, but tried to reason with himself: he knew too well the transition from "flirtatious, popular, loud-mouthed ladykiller" to "weird, inept hermit". Maybe this man was going through something similar. Or maybe Qrow was just too fucking lonely, and needed to go back to therapy. 

Wiping some unappealing frozen mouse fluid on his work t-shirt absentmindedly, he finally put the bucket down, wincing at the dull ache in his lower back as he did so. He figured he was a bit too young to be having back problems, but also figured that it was a problem to be addressed some other time. For now, he just wanted coffee and a break. Technically, his work day wasn't that long at all, but knowing that he had to call Taiyang when he got back was more draining that he'd ever admit. He loved the man like a brother, of course he did, but he was so much  _effort_. At least Tai's girls provided more of a distraction when they visited on the weekends; during phone calls, Qrow just sat in his empty apartment, wearing pyjamas and staring at the beige walls in the semi-dark. It wasn't fun. 

~~~~~

Much later, after a couple of shots of whiskey and a half-hearted attempt at grilled cheese, Qrow resigned himself to his sofa bed. He knew he had to call his brother in law - Taiyang would probably be in bed within the next two hours, the responsible asshole - but he didn't know why.  _Why_ did he have to have these phone calls with Tai twice a week?  _Why_ couldn't he just sit and stare out of his grimy apartment window at the last remnants of light until he passed out in his work clothes? 

He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands until he saw violent pink stars, heaving out a sigh. He knew exactly why that had to do this, or at least why Tai thought they did; gods knew he couldn't argue with the guy, since he'd gotten his shit together years ago. But it still didn't seem  _fair_. If Qrow wanted to be a miserable shut-in who only spoke to birds and smelled like a fresh new circle of hell every night, then so be it. 

However tired he was, though, he eventually pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket and dialed 2 on the keyboard to ring Taiyang. He held it up to his ear, sinking lower into the broken springs of his mattress, waiting only two and a half rings before the other man picked up. 

"Qrow?" 

"Who else?" he replied, clearing his throat when he realised how rough he sounded. "How you cookin'?" Taiyang snorted. 

"So not cool, dude. So not cool." There was a brief pause in which Qrow shuffled awkwardly to rest his mobile between his right ear and shoulder. "I've been fine. Just the usual, y'know, the girls raising hell." 

"Hey, I thought I told 'em not to do anything involving hell any more," Qrow replied jokily. "They been asking after me at all?" 

"Of course they have," Taiyang said fondly, "they always do. You wanna chat to them? They get to stay up late tonight cos school's shut tomorrow. I gotta tire them out somehow." 

"Lucky little shits," Qrow chuckled, before sighing and smoothing a thumb and forefinger across his brow. "I, uh... I don't think tonight's the best time for me to talk with the kids, Tai. Sorry." 

There were a few empty seconds as neither of them said anything, yet an entire conversation went unspoken between them. Taiyang could hear the rasp in his friend's voice, the exhaustion and loneliness; he knew Qrow just wanted to protect the girls from that, from all of the extra stuff that came with their uncle. He supposed he should be grateful that Qrow wanted to protect them at all - it had certainly been an unexpected turn of events, that mess of a man becoming so attached to his daughters - but he didn't like to hear his oldest friend like that. 

"Don't worry about it," Taiyang said finally. Qrow felt the younger man's disappointment slice into his side and winced, but quickly composed himself. 

"Sorry," he said again. "I'll be fine for them by the weekend, I promise." 

_I promise,_ he thought to himself, blank burgundy gaze boring a hole in the window ahead of him, cold starlight leaking onto the carpet.  _I always promise._


	2. April 17th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is a little rushed and inconsequential, but I wanted to get something out before going on holiday. I'll try to write down any ideas I get, but I won't be writing or uploading anything properly until the end of this week.

Upon waking, Qrow discovered that he'd passed out semi-upright on the floor, with his back propped against his sofa bed. He shouldn't have been surprised - this was a pretty standard sleeping position for him - but it still took him a good couple of minutes to orient himself from such an awkward angle. 

He hadn't bothered to close the blinds after his phone call with Tai the night before, and obnoxiously yellow light was pouring through the large window to bounce around the back of his skull. Finally mustering the courage to stand, he groaned to himself and made his way into the kitchen. The tiled floor was cold on his bare feet, miscellaneous crumbs spiking into the soles as he padded over to his kettle. (Ruby and Yang had bought it for him as a Christmas present last year, after months of complaining that their noodles always had limescale in. He appreciated the sentiment.) 

Fumbling around a cupboard for a moment, Qrow rattled through the day's plan in his head: work (he had to take a shift in the storeroom), shop, home, guitar, sleep. No - he shouldn't play guitar, it might wake the neighbours.  _You know you're no good anyway, asshole. You should've thrown that thing away when you moved overseas, it will only make you think of--_

He put two heaped teaspoons of instant coffee powder into a mug, only a little aggressively, tensing when the spoon clattered onto the counter. He picked it up, sighing, then poured the water in. He didn't need milk today. 

Ten minutes later, he was stood in front of his bathroom mirror staring at his dusty reflection. He'd stripped his shirt and thrown it onto the floor - it was probably wet now, the plastic tiles never really dried - and was gripping the sink with both hands as he leaned closer to look at himself. 

He looked... old. Not  _bad_ old, he supposed, but older than he thought he'd ever look. Qrow had never thought he'd be able to think to himself,  _"Yeah, I'm 32 years old, and I'm not dead"_ , but here he was. He didn't have too many wrinkles, if a little more than most people his age; they were mostly concentrated around his eyes, years of insomnia and squinting (due to his irrational fear of optometrists) taking their toll. He also had lines starting to form at the sides of his mouth, down from his nose, but he didn't mind those. They made it look like he smiled a lot. 

He wasn't a fan of the grey hairs, however. His jet-black hair was one of the only physical traits he was proud of, damn it - even if it did remind him of his sister, but  _don't think about that today_ \- but now it was peppered with cobweb-like stripes, much earlier than he would've liked. They weren't even a nice grey, in Qrow's opinion; he thought to the silver-haired stranger, a little jealous of how his hair appeared to shine like light reflecting off a pool of still water, while Qrow's remained like shadows. He had to chuckle at his own shallow envy. 

Turning away from the mirror, he quickly undressed and stepped into the shower, not waiting for the water to heat up before attacking his scalp with a bottle of soap. Steam rose and blurred his vision as he stood there; he stayed standing in the bathtub for minutes after the water became scalding, watching his feet turn pink in the heat. Eventually he came to, switching off the electric shower and stepped onto the sodden bathmat. 

_Autopilot engaged_ , he thought to himself, wrapping a towel around his waist.  _Time to get on with it._

~~~~~

When he arrived to work, Lacey (one of the only colleagues he knew the name of) was waiting for him in the reception area, holding a slip of paper and a sheepish expression. He gave him an awkward wave with her other hand as he walked over, faltering at how tired he looked. 

"Hey Qrow, you... You okay?" she asked, smiling weakly. Qrow cursed himself for having such an intimidating neutral face. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, unconvincing. The shorter woman's eyes flitted over his face for a few seconds, taking in the brown-tinged dark circles and bloodshot eyes and uncombed hair. "So, what you got for me?" 

"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news," Lacey said, handing over the sheet of paperwork, its tiny print illegible to Qrow at this early hour, "but you're in the storeroom all day today." She winced a little when Qrow's face fell, but continued. "Hey, it's not too bad! Look, there's the list of what you've gotta do. You might even get off early, since there's not  _that_ much to do..." She trailed off, and Qrow breathed a laugh through his nostrils. 

"I don't know how you sound so cheery about this," he said, stuffing the piece of paper into a back pocket. Blush rose to the woman's rounded cheeks; Qrow thought that a few years back, he would've flirted with her, made some suggestive comment and winked as he walked away. Instead, he just said, "Thanks, anyway." 

He turned on his heel and wandered towards the storeroom, mentally preparing himself for a day of tortuously boring work. As he walked away, Lacey called, "See you around!" from behind him, but he didn't respond. He liked her well enough - she was young, optimistic, pretty hard-working, with an attractive and friendly face - but he always felt  _guilty_ talking to his coworkers. What did they do to deserve his mopey attitude and poor conversation skills? Besides, he knew he didn't want to make  _friends_ with any of them, so why bother? It wasn't worth it. It was all too tiring. 

Only half his mind on the brainless tasks ahead of him, Qrow let the other half drift off to whatever it landed on. He thought forward to the weekend, knowing he needed to prepare for his nieces' visit that afternoon: he'd been building up a list of foods the girls did and didn't like for a while now, so shopping shouldn't be too much of a hassle. It was a little sad, but their weekly sleepovers in his tiny apartment had been a main reason that he tried to get a job in the first place - he had to feed them somehow. 

Quietly picking out a few splinters from his calloused palms, he realised that his minor shift in timetable meant that he wouldn't see the silver-haired man today. He chuckled at how invested he was in the mystery of this total stranger, then flinched when the movement jostled one of the larger splinters into his finger. 

He wondered if the other man thought anything of him, since they inadvertently spent a decent amount of time together (in silence) on most weekdays. Qrow had always found it interesting to think about, the influence you can have on others even if you don't realise it; before everything had happened, he'd had a pretty big impact on a lot of people's lives. Everyone in their hometown back in America -  _not home any more, damnit_ \- had known him, and probably had a dozen stories each to tell about him. Their opinions changed as he grew older, more cocky, but the majority of them stayed fond all the same. He wasn't sure if they'd remember many of them now. 

He kept working, sticking labels onto boxes and filing them away in their respective cupboards. By the time his lunch break came, he'd almost completely lost track of time, becoming a mindless robot only programmed to do one thing. He worked best that way. 

As he left the sanctuary and crossed the street to reach the nearest café, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He flipped the screen up to read two notifications from his brother in law. 

**Tai:** You still ok to have the girls this weekend? 

**Tai:** Remember they have homework to do, pls don't let them get away with avoiding it 

Qrow darted under the awnings of the café, leaning back against the glass storefront as he slowly typed out his reply. 

**Qrow:** yep, still ok to take em. i'll try not to forget about the homework. remind me on saturday. 

A few minutes later, after he'd gotten his coffee and bacon sandwich and sat at one of the small tables, his phone went off again. Staring at the bright screen reminded him to rub the sleep out of his eyes. 

**Tai:** Thanks man, you know I appreciate it. I gtg clean up the school this weekend so you're doing me a favor 

Qrow's thumbs hovered over the keys of his phone for a few minutes before he shook his head and put his mobile away with a small smile. How had the other man not noticed that Qrow was his happiest when Ruby and Yang were over? It wasn't like he was doing Taiyang a favour at all; it made more sense the other way round. Who needed therapy when you had two hyperactive preteen girls to take care of every weekend, after all? 

He ate about two thirds of his sandwich before downing the coffee and leaving the café, heading back over to the sanctuary with his hands in his pockets. He vaguely heard someone point out, "You'll ruin your back if you keep slouching like that!" as he walked into the storeroom, but just got right back to work without a word. (It was the first time he'd noticed it, but constantly having to sweep back his bangs as he hauled the boxes around was damn annoying. Maybe it was finally time to get rid of this haircut. He was getting a bit too old for it, anyway.) 

~~~~~

Later, once he'd been freed from the sanctuary - Lacey was right, he did get off about half an hour early - Qrow headed straight to the supermarket. He'd actually remembered the list of niece-friendly foods this time, so the shop was bound to be a breeze. 

Sometimes, when he went shopping (or just out in public in general), Qrow felt as if he could feel people's eyes on him. He just  _knew_ they were all watching, judging him: some lonely guy, obviously single, always wearing the same clothes, buying loads of food clearly for kids. But it wasn't just that; he felt like they knew things about him that they shouldn't,  _couldn't_ , and it was like a thousand ants crawling over the back of his head. He got out of the supermarket quickly. 

As he exited the shop, he paused for a second to readjust the plastic bags, before fishing his phone out of his pocket. Overcome with the need to have an actual conversation with someone, he typed out two texts to Tai. 

**Qrow:** have i ever told you about the guy i always see at the sanctuary? 

**Qrow:** the guy with the silver hair? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to everyone on the Ozqrow discord for encouraging me to keep going with this!!


	3. April 19th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry it's been so long since I updated, most of you probably forgot this fic even existed. It's my favourite AU I've created, though, so I thought I'd try to write another chapter to see if I could get back on top of things. Hope this is ok!

As the weekend rolled around, Qrow found himself feeling a little lighter, just a little less weighed down by everything. The promise of his nieces visiting was always a pleasant one - even if he sometimes worried about screwing it up - and having something new to talk to Tai about had made things feel a bit less heavy between them. Perhaps Qrow's interest in the bird sanctuary's regular visitor was weird, yes, but it was neutral ground for the two of them. They'd been texting more regularly for the past couple of days, and it was a good distraction for the older man to sink his teeth into. 

On Saturday morning, he woke up at 9am to start getting food ready for the girls. He knew they both liked noodles, especially Ruby; they'd mentioned a ramen restaurant that their dad had taken them to a few times, and Yang had always loved roast pork, so Qrow thought he'd give it a shot. He wasn't exactly an expert cook, but he'd been living on his own for long enough that he had a few tricks up his sleeve (at least enough to get by), and his elder niece was just getting to that age where she couldn't run on sweets and takeout pizza 100% of the time. 

It felt good, being this productive, especially when he knew it was for someone else. Qrow had never really enjoyed doing stuff for himself; it was better if there was an external motivator, someone to cheer up or help along. Many people mistook this for a caring nature, and he supposed that wasn't so bad.  _You've gotta get people to like you somehow, right?_ an unhelpful voice piped up from the back of his mind, but he growled it away and kept preparing the ingredients. 

**Tai:** So this guy, how old do u think he is? 

The notification popped up on Qrow's phone just as he was about to check the time on it - he needed to make sure he'd showered and dressed himself relatively decently before the girls arrived. He chuckled and shook his head as he read the text, shuffling slowly backwards to creak down into the chair in the corner of the kitchen. 

**Qrow:** i honestly can't tell. it's weird. why? 

He typed the message out while scratching at a spot of dried-up  _something_ on his pyjama trousers, trying to pick it off in order to avoid having to do another load of laundry. After a minute or so, he sighed and gave up, flipping his phone closed and placing it on the counter. 

The preparation for the pork ramen was by far more work than the actual cooking process itself, which Qrow supposed was a good thing, taking into account the fact that his unpredictable brain might prevent him from being so productive later in the day. He sung and hummed as he chopped away, old songs that he couldn't remember all the words to. His voice was lower and more grumbly than it used to be; Taiyang sometimes liked to joke that he had the voice of an old folk singer who smoked three packs a day. The slow sounds of his hums and the crackling of pots and pans filled the steam-smudged room, and the thick peace was only disrupted when there was a knock at the door and Qrow jumped around in a flash. 

"Uncle Qrow!" his younger niece shrieked, even before he'd fully opened the entrance to his apartment. She whirled in, a burst of red and black, barrelling into him with more garbled (yet affectionate) nonsense. 

"Hey, pipsqueak," Qrow said with a smile, ruffling Ruby's short hair. "How ya been?" 

The younger girl didn't seem to hear his question, instead skipping over to inspect his efforts in the small kitchen. Qrow looked to her sister and their dad with happily crinkled eyes, taking in the welcome sight of his brother-in-law - who seemed to grow bulkier and more toned every time he saw him - and his elder daughter, Yang. The eleven-year-old's similarity to his sister still choked Qrow now and then, despite it being only a physical similarity, and her pale face resembled Raven's more and more each year. 

"Hey, Yang," he said, reaching his arms out for a hug. He was grateful that the blonde girl hadn't grown to disdainfully reject his hugs yet, and treasured these pre-teen days even more greatly than he'd anticipated. 

Looking over his niece's shoulder, he gave Taiyang an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, Tai. I was gonna get dressed and clean, I just got a little carried away with the cooking." 

"You're cooking?" the blond man said with a raised eyebrow, crossing his arms across his chest. "Huh, it doesn't smell poisonous. Weird." Qrow gave him a weak punch to the shoulder as Yang pulled away from his embrace to join her younger sister in the kitchen. 

"You doing okay?" Taiyang asked, hands still tucked by his ribcage, eyes and tone disconcertingly serious. 

Qrow looked away, sticking his hands into the pockets of his checked pyjama trousers. "Yeah, Tai, I'm doing good. You?" His friend didn't answer, merely smiling at him before waving goodbye to his daughters. Qrow tried to shake off the impression of pity he got from the other man's expression. 

"So then, girls," he said after Taiyang shut the door behind him, steering his nieces away from the half-prepared food, "you up for some Street Fighter?" 

~~~~~

By the time the evening came, Qrow had learned more about the inner workings and gossip of an English primary school than he'd ever cared or expected to, and was almost too tired to finish cooking dinner. He managed to put the bowls of ramen together, though, and the glittering look in Yang's purplish eyes as he set them down on the small kitchen table was entirely worth it. 

"Woah, when did you learn to make this?" she asked incredulously, gazing into the steaming bowl of noodles as if it was showing her the meaning of life. 

Qrow chuckled, handing the girls some mismatched chopsticks and spoons. "Not too long ago, kid," he said, taking a precautionary sip of the homemade broth. His eyebrows quirked up in surprise. "Hey, this ain't bad! What d'you say, huh, your uncle got a new career in sight?" 

"But Uncle Qrow, your job is so cool!" Ruby said, high-pitched and excessively loud across the scuffed wooden table. "I wish I could work with animals, but Dad says I can't do that until I've finished school..." 

"That's a good idea, kiddo," Qrow replied, flashing her a smile over his bowl of food before digging in. It was, contrary to his doubts and pessimistic expectations, a damn good bowl of ramen. 

"So!" Yang piped up a few minutes later, a teasing tone slipping into her words. "Dad told us that you have a  _mysterious friend_ at the bird sanctuary, huh? Now  _that's_ interesting. Tell us more!" Qrow groaned, accidentally letting the handle of his spoon drown in what was left of the soup. "C'mon, don't be such a downer! We wanna know, don't we, Ruby?" The younger girl nodded enthusiastically, watching him with sharp grey eyes. 

"Fine, fine, okay!" Qrow said, slumping further down in the chair. (He silently filed away a note in his brain to get some new kitchen chairs when he had the money; the one he was sitting on had two legs that were shorter than their siblings.) 

"First off, he's not a  _'friend'_ ," he started, forming air quotes and narrowing his eyes, "so get that idea out of your little heads, whatever Tai told you." Yang rolled her eyes, but he chose to ignore it and continued. "There's just, uh... there's this guy who I always see in the owl enclosure, at work. Which is weird, y'know, since the place isn't exactly famous enough to have  _regulars_ , let alone weird loner regulars who just sit and watch owls and write all day." 

"How do you know he's weird?" Ruby asked, eyes wide and curious. 

"Takes one to know one," muttered her sister. "It's like gaydar, but with weird people." 

"Alright, shut up," Qrow said, Yang grinning in response. "I'm just curious, okay? I can't tell if he's twenty or fifty, and he never  _talks_ , doesn't even text anyone. It's interesting. Besides, feeding frozen rodents to owls while they shi--take a dump on your shoes and bite your fingers ain't exactly the most engaging of activities." 

Ruby giggled and Yang rolled her eyes again, but they seemed satisfied. The three of them finished their food in a comfortable near-silence, soon heading back over to the living-room-slash-bedroom to complete their heated Mariokart tournament. 

~~~~~

Later that night, staring up at the ceiling with one hand under his head and the other resting on his abdomen, lying on the sofa, Qrow let his mind swim through the shadows. The room was cloaked in them, yet sometimes - when he had just the right balance between asleep and awake, and when he actually had something to think about other than years of quiet despair - he felt as if he could see things dancing in the black up above him. 

He wasn't crazy, he knew that. He couldn't be. He was far too aware of the world around him, of everything that was going on; he knew that to be truly crazy he would need less of a grip on reality, less of a consciousness about his own place in the universe. He could remember a few times like that, but they were far enough in the past now that he could nearly let them go. 

Looking to the side, he saw the sleeping forms of his nieces, illuminated softly by the streetlamps jutting up from the roads below. It was a cloudy night, and Qrow almost wished he had some stars to gaze out at, but was happy to realise that he was tired enough to sleep soon, anyway. 

The girls slept on a thin, roll-out mattress that Qrow kept in a blanket box (which he also used as a makeshift coffee and cards table), and his heart clenched as he let himself think about their dedication to him. How lucky had he gotten that two of the sweetest girls in the world had ended up as his nieces -  _him_ , of all people? Perhaps its was the gods' way of apologising for everything that had happened to him, making up for all that lost time. After all, not many kids would be willing - not just willing, he thought, but eager - to spend almost every single weekend at their alcoholic uncle's shitty apartment, sleeping on his living room floor. 

He wished he could do better for them. 

Sooner than most nights, Qrow recognised the sensation of his eyelids drifting shut, of the dancing shadows in the small room becoming a blanket. He fell asleep with images of silver-grey hair flickering behind those heavy eyelids, feeling like a teenager again - not the teenager who had hurt too much, seen too much, but the one before him. 


	4. April 21st

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the super short update, i'm exhausted at the moment but i kinda remembered how much i adore this fic (not to brag or anything) so i thought i'd just give you this little snippet of qrow's life. plus, it maaay become more relevant later on...

He supposed it was something of a cliché, but Mondays really did make Qrow want to rip the hair out of every single follicle on his body. Waking up to an empty flat after spending the weekend with Ruby and Yang filling the bland space with their noise and enthusiasm was like a brick to the face, and he very nearly sent a text to his boss with a poor excuse for his absence from work when he checked the time on his flip-phone. 

But no, he would go to work, earn money, and get some time to himself. Well, in reality he was just spending loads of times with damn birds, but that wasn't so bad. He just wished it didn't have to happen on a  _Monday_. At least he wasn't hungover. 

Qrow felt the weight of another week dragging him down as he descended the elevator down to street level; he leaned tiredly back on the mirror, pointedly avoiding his reflection. He hated himself infinitely for still feeling like shit after such a good weekend - couldn't he just function like a normal human being for once? 

But, then again, he looked at the permanent marker stain that Ruby had adorned the sleeve of his shirt with a couple years back, and managed a small smile. 

Charlie, Qrow's (younger-than-him) boss, was waiting just inside the entrance to Beacon Bird Sanctuary as Qrow arrived. The shorter man gave him a charmingly unprofessional grin and wave, bright white teeth gleaming against his smooth, dark skin. 

"Hey, Qrow!" Charlie greeted amicably. He waved his employee over when Qrow hesitated in the doorway, exhaustion dusting his features with a dazed expression. 

"Uh, hey, boss." Charlie rolled his eyes, ever amused by Qrow's use of the title. "What's up?" 

The younger man smiled, softer this time. "Well, we've notice--me and Lacey, that is--we've noticed that you've been pretty tired recently. Well, not just recently, but anyway..." He trailed off, wincing in sympathy when he saw the scowl start to grow on Qrow's face. "Look, it's not a problem! Don't worry, okay? We've just moved your timetable around a bit so you have a bit of a longer lunch break, and you can take it at pretty much any time for now so we can work out what's best for you." 

Qrow's face passed through a few different emotions, milk-tea skin moving rapidly over his features as they fought between shock, anger, and gratitude. He eventually seemed to settle on being grateful - if a little begrudging about it all - but his wide merlot eyes continued to betray his surprise. 

"Wow," he breathed. It looked like he didn't know where to put his hands. "Thank you, uh... yeah. Thanks." 

Charlie's eyes were warm, expression open, as if his good deed had been as simple as brushing his teeth. Qrow had always envied others their ability to do that: to give so freely, and to appear so carefree about it, about being a genuinely nice person. 

Qrow went to work feeling slightly more confused than he usually did. Was he really that easy to figure out? He'd thought he'd been hiding his fatigue relatively will; he'd even started using eye creams in an attempt to mask the greyish circles that tainted his face (though he always ordered the products online to avoid embarrassment). 

Maybe he needed to go back to a therapist. 

_You're still crazy._

Tai had always assured him that he knew a few good counsellors through mutual friends at work, and that he wouldn't judge Qrow if he needed their phone numbers. 

_Just as crazy as ever, aren't you?_

Besides, he still had the mobile number for his old therapist back in the U.S., Dr Alcante. She'd told him he was allowed to call her to ask for advice, seeing as they'd worked together for so long. 

_Why aren't you fighting it, Qrow? Aren't you as tough as you used to be?Old man. You're getting scared again._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my bestie for lending me the original basic idea for this AU. She doesn't have an AO3 account, so just imagine that I've credited her properly. She knows I love her. 
> 
> This chapter didn't turn out entirely as I'd hoped, so I can't even tell if I'll continue the fic. I love the idea though, so we'll see.


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